


Poison and Regrets

by routa



Series: Yurileth Week 2020 by routa [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blood and Injury, Gender-Neutral My Unit | Byleth, Other, Poison, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, Yurileth Week (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24293389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/routa/pseuds/routa
Summary: Yuri gets injured. Byleth worries.Written for Yurileth Week, for the prompts Injury/Betrayal. Byleth's gender up to interpretation.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc & My Unit | Byleth, Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Yurileth Week 2020 by routa [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753765
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	Poison and Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to post this yesterday, but then this got away from me and became pretty long and I realised that I actually do want to at least edit it a bit more after sleeping on it because it turns out I am very, very bad at writing fics that I don't regret within just one evening.
> 
> There are a couple of random OCs that are needed for the plot in this fic, but they're pretty much just human props and don't even warrant a tag.

Yuri cursed under his breath when his vision started to dim. Though to be honest, he was a bit surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. He wiped a hand across his face and it came away black and fuchsia. He was sweating, even though he felt so damn cold. He gritted his teeth and tried to keep moving even as pain lanced through his side and his legs didn’t want to listen to him anymore. He had made it this far, all the way out of that stupid ambush, through enough loops and fake turns to fool all of his pursuers, and into the tunnels that led to Abyss. There was no way he could quit _now_ , not when Abyss and safety were so close.

His dominant, rational side reminded him that there was only so much willpower could do when he had been shot with an obviously poisoned arrow, but Yuri did his best to ignore that for once. He leaned to the wall of the tunnel with his free hand while his other was clutching the arrow he had pushed through flesh and snapped in half in order to extract it. It hadn’t pierced anything vital, as far as Yuri could tell, but the poison was making the wound dangerous nonetheless. He had managed to down one of the many different types of antitoxin he kept with him at all times, but he wasn’t sure if it was the correct one. He felt bad enough that it probably wasn’t, or then the poison had been more potent than he had been prepared for.

Damn. Well, at least he had managed to retreat all the way back on his own two feet. And as far as he knew, his group of rogues had scattered into hiding and had not suffered any fatal wounds. So he could focus on saving himself and later take care of regrouping. His people knew what to do. That was why he had picked them and trained them, after all. And he would probably survive too if he hurried. He had been resistant to most ailments ever since he’d contracted that plague and the Elder staying in their house had cured him. He’d be back on his feet soon enough, provided he’d get to a healer in time.

He glimpsed one of the sentries stationed near Abyss at the end of the corridor. And that was when his adrenaline let up just enough that his arm caved in and he slumped against the wall. The movement made his stomach lurch, but there was nothing in there to lose at this point. Yuri called out, but wasn’t sure if he’d even made an actual sound. The sentry turned, however, somewhere in a murky swamp of blackening vision.

Good. At least he wouldn’t be forgotten here. At least-

* * *

Byleth was oddly disappointed when they had been told that Yuri was out and about on some errand or other. They were also a bit sceptical as to what the nature of this “errand” was. Byleth still remembered catching Yuri in the act of leaving Garreg Mach at night to take care of a turf war with a gang. Byleth supposed they should expect this to be something similar, or something else connected to Yuri’s shady profession. Not that Byleth was judging. They knew that Yuri was doing this because it was the only way Yuri felt he could support the people of Abyss. Not to mention Byleth had basically killed people for money before becoming a teacher in Garreg Mach monastery, so they weren’t one to talk about disreputable professions anyway. Byleth and Yuri had both agreed that they had got through life in a harsh way and could perhaps do better, and that was that. They had an understanding that had begun to border on actual trust and appreciation of one another. So no, Byleth wasn’t disappointed because they figured Yuri was doing something illegal. They found themselves more disappointed by the mere fact that Yuri was absent.

_Wait…_

Byleth had to file that thought and the feeling associated with it away for later examination. They had been doing that more and more lately, when feelings sneaked up on them and made them confused. They had never been very good with feelings, but at least until lately, feelings hadn’t _surprised_ them like this.

“Hey, pal! What were you going to say?”

Byleth was startled out of their thoughts by a loud voice and a hand that was waving madly in front of Byleth’s face. They blinked and forced themselves to focus on an angular face with friendly brown eyes that were looking back with something akin to amused curiosity. Byleth had sought out Balthus when Yuri had proved to be elsewhere. Balthus was probably Yuri’s closest friend and would know when he would be back.

“Uh… I was just,” Byleth cleared their throat, “Thinking. Never mind. Can you tell Yuri I was looking for him? I was going to ask his help on a mission.”

“Sure thing!” Balthus said, “And let me know if something needs punching on that mission too. I’m always available. And currently bored.”

“Ah, yes. Actually, you _could_ help with-“

“Balthus!”

Byleth and Balthus turned when a woman in a ragged hood and with a bow on her back called out in distress. She looked like one of the sentries, and it was clear that she had come running from her post.

“Yeah?” Balthus asked, “What is it?”

The woman didn’t even stop to properly draw in a breath before she managed a hoarse and rushed:

“It’s the boss! He’s hurt bad!”

Something twisted into a knot in Byleth’s chest. They noted with some fleeting curiosity that if they had had a heartbeat, it would have skipped one for sure. But there was no time to think about that either, because as soon as the woman got her words out, both Byleth and Balthus were running, following the sentry into a tunnel outside Abyss, where a figure dressed in dark lay. Yuri had probably looked elegant as always when he had left, but now his coat, hands, even his hair were stained dark with blood. Red and lavender partially obscured his face, which was even paler than normally. Smudged black and purple streaked down his cheeks, and Byleth was confused for a moment until they realised that it was probably just stray eyeshadow. Then Yuri lifted his head and Byleth could see that his normally so cunning eyes had glazed over with what was probably a high fever. Or something worse.

“Oh, hell, boss!” Balthus blurted out and fell to his knees next to Yuri, “What happened?”

“Balthus?” Yuri asked in a small, breathless voice that was so unlike him it made Byleth’s insides freeze with dread, “No… wait. No time… Need a healer. Get Aryna. I’ve… been poisoned.”

Yuri was holding an arrow in his hand, and Byleth could now see that the blood was from a wound in Yuri’s left side. The tip of the arrow looked deceptively ordinary – if sharp enough to kill – but Byleth had seen enough victims of poisoned weapons to know that Yuri was right. And that they probably didn’t have much time.

Luckily, Balthus was also up to speed with the situation and scooped Yuri up as easily as one would an empty blanket. Yuri looked so small in Balthus’s massive arms, and for a second Byleth forgot that this was the dreaded leader of Western Fódlan’s underworld, who held at least half of the continent’s nobles under his thumb. Byleth’s teacher instincts flared, or maybe other instincts, because Yuri wasn’t really their student even though he sometimes sat at lectures. It was more like ally instincts? Friend instincts? Byleth wasn’t sure what the difference was. Or maybe the instincts were some Byleth hadn’t yet identified and had something to do with the previous disappointment they had filed away for later.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that Yuri needed help, so Byleth sprinted after Balthus, who carried Yuri through a winding set of tunnels that deliberately went around the centre of Abyss, where most of the people there lived.

“Can’t let just anyone see the boss this way,” Balthus said, much quieter and more serious than his usual, boisterous self, “Not great for morale.”

Byleth didn’t doubt that. The people of Abyss loved Yuri, and why wouldn’t they? Yuri was a good leader, effortlessly charismatic, and more importantly, incredibly dedicated to the people’s well-being. And if seeing Yuri this hurt made Byleth’s chest feel oddly cold and empty, they could only imagine what it would do to those who had been chewed up and spat out by society and who saw Yuri as a shining beacon of hope.

Balthus didn’t stop running until he was in a corridor Byleth recognised as the place where the few healers and doctors that dared to venture into Abyss held their clinics. If they could be called that – they were mostly just the least dingy rooms, outfitted with all the meagre supplies the Abyssians could scrounge up – or ones Yuri and his rogues could secure. Balthus chose one of the doors and – with his arms full of Yuri – kicked it in a rhythm resembling a very aggressive knock.

“Hey! Aryna! We need you!”

The door cracked open, and an elderly woman peered out from under a greying mane of hair with dark eyes that were intense like hot coals.

“Balthus,” she said in a commanding, strong voice, “if you- oh, Goddess! What happened? No, never mind that. Come inside and lay him down. Quickly now!”

Balthus ducked under the low doorframe and deposited Yuri on a small bed in the corner of the room. Byleth slipped through the door as well and quickly took in the rows of bottles of unidentified liquids as well as some fairly well-kept medical instruments on shelves. They also spotted a few healing tomes and vulneraries on the wooden desk that took up most of the back wall. Then their attention was again drawn to Yuri, who would have looked unconscious if it weren’t for the pained look on his face. Byleth was left standing in the corner, feeling useless but unable to leave. The unidentified type of dread clawed through their insides again, but Byleth decided firmly – once again – that this was not the time. Right now, what mattered was Yuri.

The woman – apparently named Aryna – pulled her hair into a bun with practised fingers and then knelt at Yuri’s bedside. She lifted her hand over Yuri’s face, lightly brushed tightly closed eyelids, and quietly whispered a spell Byleth didn’t recognise.

“He said he was poisoned,” Balthus said when Aryna opened her eyes and stopped chanting, “I think it was from this arrow.”

He offered the arrow he had plucked from Yuri’s now lax hand to Aryna, who accepted it with a nod and studied the arrowhead with a frown on her face.

“Yes,” she said, “This is the thing that makes things a bit trickier. The arrow wound itself is easy enough to close, but I need to draw the poison out first. He has taken some form of antitoxin, thankfully. It has slowed the poison down at least. If he hadn’t… well, he would probably already be dead.”

The dread made its presence known again, settled somewhere on top of Byleth’s unbeating heart.

“Can you save him?” they asked almost without thinking. Aryna smiled.

“Oh, of course I can. Especially since we all know our bird here is too stubborn to die from this. But like I said, I need to draw out the poison. Balthus, and you… who were you again?”

“Byleth,” Byleth said, “A professor from-“

“Ah, yes. You. I know of you, then. Yes, come over here. I need help from you both.”

Balthus and Byleth gathered around Yuri, who was so still it didn’t look right. Sure, Yuri wasn’t the type of person to waste energy by fidgeting or just uselessly jumping around like some of the more excitable members of Byleth’s class, but he was never… lifeless like this. Even sitting in the corner of a room, Yuri had a presence that was impossible to ignore – unless Yuri _wanted_ to be ignored, in which case it was remarkable how quickly he could melt into the background. But now, Yuri was nothing like that. Nothing like… well, Yuri. Right now, he was small and hurt and pale, and it made Byleth very uncomfortable.

“I will get the poison out with magic,” Aryna explained, and Byleth forced themselves to focus, “But I refuse to do quick battlefield fixes that will need rehealing later. My spells will take a bit more time, and they aren’t entirely painless. I need you two to hold him down if he starts to move too much so he doesn’t hurt himself further.”

She sighed and gently ran a hand over Yuri’s forehead. Yuri squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and let out a small, pained groan.

“Let’s get this over with quickly,” Aryna said, “Balthus, grab his legs, and Byleth, keep his upper body in the mattress. Don’t use force unless he starts thrashing. Just keep a bit of weight on him first and talk to him if he needs it.”

“Got it,” Balthus said, and even he sounded oddly shaken, “Ya hear that, boss? You’re gonna be alright.”

Balthus moved to lay his hands on Yuri’s ankles, and Byleth positioned themselves over Yuri so that they could touch Yuri’s arms just above the elbows. It would be the easiest spot to keep his arms under control, and Byleth could also easily stop him from sitting up. Yuri flinched when Byleth touched him, and Byleth fumbled with a few inadequately soothing sentences until they settled for just:

“It’s Byleth. You’re among friends.”

Or was he? Byleth wasn’t sure if Yuri considered them a friend yet. Yuri had sometimes admitted that he didn’t even fully trust them. Their still tentative understanding was too new for someone like Yuri, who had clearly grown up in a world full of lies and manipulation. Byleth supposed they couldn’t really start analysing that right now, because Yuri wasn’t lucid enough to even start cataloguing the nuances of their relationship anyway.

“I won’t hurt you,” Byleth said.

“But I will a little,” said Aryna, and then she started chanting.

For a moment, everything was as fine as it could be, given the circumstances. Byleth could feel Aryna’s healing magic working, small sparks sinking into bloodstream and dispelling whatever poison was going through Yuri’s system. But then, Yuri grimaced in pain and tried to squirm away from Aryna’s outstretched, shining hand. Byleth automatically locked their arms to keep Yuri down, and that was when everything went wrong.

Yuri’s eyes snapped open, but he was clearly not seeing anything around him. His breathing picked up, and he started struggling properly, hands clenching around sheets and legs trying to kick even when Balthus held them in an iron grip.

“Hey, boss!” Balthus yelped, “Calm down! It’s… oh, shit. No one’s gonna hurt you, okay?”

Byleth wasn’t sure if Yuri heard any of it. Yuri had started to let out weak but insistent, nearly incoherent noises of protest. Some of it sounded almost like:

_“Don’t- Don’t touch me!”_

Byleth had seen enough things in their life to know that there was likely something other than just random hallucinations behind those words. They leaned down, closer to Yuri’s face, and tried to keep their voice soft and calm even as they hated everything about this situation:

“Yuri. It’s _me_ , Byleth. And Balthus. We are trying to- _gah_!”

Their sentence crunched into a halt when Yuri headbutted them hard enough to split their lip and almost break Byleth’s grip on his arms. Only years of training and a naturally unflinching nature kept Byleth on their feet.

“Damn!” Balthus said and sounded amused despite the situation, “He got you good!”

“Would you stop messing around?” Aryna snapped, “I’m almost done!”

It still wasn’t fast enough. And Yuri didn’t stop panicking the entire time. He was breathing too fast and by now he had a death grip on Byleth’s forearms. Byleth had never seen him so vulnerable. It felt so… _wrong_.

“Let go,” Yuri rasped, and Byleth felt like they had just betrayed the fragile, budding trust there might have been forming between them when they whispered:

“I’m sorry,” and didn’t let go.

It was a couple of moments of hell, but Byleth kept their position firm until Aryna was done. She straightened and the last sparks of her spell faded into nothingness. Yuri slumped limply into the mattress, and Balthus immediately let go. Byleth copied him, feeling like their hands could never be fast enough. Yuri was still breathing too heavily, and Byleth had no idea what to do. Balthus stepped forward and started talking in a low, amicable voice about things that probably didn’t matter and Byleth wouldn’t remember later. What they did remember was the panic on Yuri’s face. They remembered it even when Yuri’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he managed to breathe in deeper. They remembered it even when Aryna healed the wound in Yuri’s side and Yuri managed a tired smile. They would remember it when they tried to get some rest even as guilt plagued them.

“Wow, you’re here too, friend?” Yuri’s voice was faint and weak, like dry, too old book pages, and when he tried to laugh, it came out as a wheeze, “Well, that’s… embarrassing…”

“Don’t try to joke your way out of this, boss,” Balthus said in a deceptively carefree tone, “You really had us worried there!”

“I… sorry,” Yuri coughed, “I’ll… I’ll be okay.”

“You will, if you rest,” Aryna said stiffly, “So you’ll stay here. I’ll make sure you don’t try to run off too soon.”

Yuri laughed again, this time a little stronger.

“You can… try,” he said, but then his eyes closed and he fell silent. Byleth tensed, but Aryna checked him over and said:

“He’s fine; just out cold. I’m sure all this took a lot out of him. He’ll have to ride out that fever and any other possible aftereffects of the poison anyway, so we should let him sleep.”

She straightened and looked at Byleth sternly.

“Thank you for your help. And now, out!”

Byleth didn’t really want to leave, but they felt like they had already done enough damage.

They fled Abyss and tried their best not to think about this small moment – eternity! – of weakness, or the fear on Yuri’s face. They didn’t succeed very well.

Byleth was used to being feared. They had been a frightening opponent on the battlefield ever since they had cut down their first foe without a shred of emotion on their face. They had been called the Ashen Demon for a long time before they had been called a professor. They hadn’t _liked_ it, however, and they _definitely_ didn’t like being feared by anyone they knew. They had done their best to be the teacher they needed to be, and to be an ally – a friend? – people could trust. And now… one they very much wanted to trust them had…

Byleth didn’t cry nor scream, but they did clench their fists, and that was quite a feat of emotional expression coming from them. They had messed up, somehow. They weren’t sure how, but they had frightened Yuri when Yuri had needed a comforting, reassuring friend. That was unacceptable. Once Yuri got better, Byleth would try to fix things… however they could. _If_ they could.

In the end, it was Yuri who beat Byleth to it. Byleth was absently trying to read through students’ papers on infantry tactics when there was a knock on their door. Byleth opened and froze at the sight of Yuri, who was again looking as impeccable as ever, as if the hurt Yuri Byleth had seen a week ago had never existed in the first place. His smile was easy and his eyes were sharp, somehow made even sharper by the colour carefully applied around them. He leaned to the doorframe like nothing was wrong in the world, but Byleth could tell that he didn’t actually put all his weight into the lean. That if needed, he could move wherever he wanted at a moment’s notice. It was probably something Yuri always did – it was something _Byleth_ did as well – but for some reason Byleth couldn’t help reading too much into it and feeling some regret at the back of their mind again.

“Hey, friend,” Yuri said, “Good to see you.”

“You… too,” Byleth managed, “What happened to you?”

“Got ambushed during a project you don’t need to know about,” Yuri shrugged, “Happens sometimes. We were prepared for a lot, but our enemy was better-equipped than I anticipated. We got away with some scratches, but I guess my luck was finally going to test me, what with me ending up with the poisoned arrow and all.”

“Oh,” Byleth said and then, when that felt far too inadequate, added, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Ha! You thought a bit of poison would keep me down for long?” Yuri smirked, “I’ve gone through way worse and come out alive, so no need to worry.”

“Still… it was… bad,” Byleth frowned. Yuri’s smirk softened into a smile.

“Balthus told me you looked pretty upset about what went down,” he said, “So I figured I’d come up here to ease your mind a bit.”

“Thank you,” Byleth said, “I was going to come down to see you soon too. And to… apologise.”

“Whatever for?” Yuri asked.

“I…” Byleth felt the coldness returning, “How much do you remember about… being healed?”

Yuri made a noncommittal noise and shrugged his shoulders.

“Not much, to be honest. I was pretty out of it for the most part. I know you were there, and Balthus and Aryna.”

“So you… I mean…” Byleth stumbled over their worlds, desperately trying to find a tactful way to say it. Too bad tact had never been their strong suit, “We had to hold you down. You didn’t… take it well.”

Yuri frowned and seemed to think very hard on something. Then he chuckled, and Byleth was again reminded that human feelings were very confusing.

“Oh,” Yuri said, “Yeah, I can guess what happened. Look, don’t worry about that. Like I said, I was _really_ out of it.”

“But you were afraid.”

“Eh, more like hit with a bad memory,” Yuri said, “Not your fault in the slightest.”

Byleth wanted to protest, but Yuri crossed his arms and gave him a very stern look that reminded Byleth that Yuri really was the leader of a large group of people. It was also a reassuring, wonderful proof that Yuri was feeling like himself again. Byleth sighed.

“I hoped you could eventually trust me,” they said, “But now I-“

“ _That’s_ what’s bothering you?” Yuri cut in, an incredulous look on his face, “You really are clueless when it comes to some things, huh? You _helped_ me back there. If anything, that’s a point in your _favour_. If what happened was going to ruin this hypothetical trust you’re talking about, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.”

He laughed, and it was wonderful to hear that dry, somewhat condescending sound again.

“Sure, I prefer it when people buy me dinner _before_ they pin me to a bed, but I’m not as… fragile as you seem to think. Honestly, I’d be insulted if you weren’t so cute when you worry.”

“I don’t think you’re- no!” Byleth blurted out, “You are one of the strongest people I know.”

“Uh-huh. Then why are you making such a big deal out of what happened? Especially now that you know I’m okay?”

Byleth didn’t know what to say to that. Yuri's smile returned.

“Well, that’s something for you to figure out, then. I guess I should leave you to it. I’ll probably show up to class in a couple of days. Or then I won’t. There’s a couple of things I need to take care of in Abyss. Don’t worry, it's nothing dangerous in a while, if all goes well.”

“I… right. Take care.”

Yuri smiled.

“You too. Oh, and believe me, I _will_ find a way to repay this. No debts and all that.”

“You don’t…” Byleth stopped themselves, because at this point they knew that Yuri wouldn’t take no for an answer when it came to repaying debts, “Well, I _had_ planned to ask for your help on a mission.”

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

“And we _could_ have dinner,” Byleth blurted out. Yuri raised an elegant eyebrow.

“What?”

“I mean…” Byleth’s cheeks were suddenly very hot for some reason, “I am not planning on pinning you to any beds, but I wouldn’t mind having dinner with you. As… an apology?”

Yuri burst out laughing properly this time. It was an airy, beautiful sound and Byleth realised they would like to hear it more. Much more.

“You really are something else,” he finally said, “ _No_. I won’t go on an apology-date with you.”

“It doesn’t have to be a-“

“ _However_ ,” Yuri raised a hand to silence Byleth mid-sentence, “I’m not saying no to free food when it’s an excuse to get to know you better. And it would help me with that trust-thing you were talking about. But just… stop worrying about this, yeah?”

“…fine.”

“Good. Then how about tonight?”

Byleth wanted to smile and cursed their inability to do it right. Still, they made a valiant effort, and it seemed to amuse Yuri almost as much as their fumbling words did.

“Yes, I would like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> ...also it should be noted that no amount of writing time will make me not regret posting a fic at least at first. Damn. Oh, well, at least this feels kinda complete?
> 
> I probably won't be doing more prompts unless I get some good-ish ideas for them. But this has been a fun, spur-of-the-moment thing to do. Also I've been lurking on Twitter and here and looking at all the lovely submissions people have done for this week. There's so much great stuff there! You guys rock!
> 
> Have a lovely time, people!


End file.
